Archive for June, 2009

It is without fail that everytime I enter the checkout line at the grocery store with some article of pet supplies in my shopping cart, that the person operating the cash register must ask:

“What kind of dog/cat do you have?”

And then, also without fail, launch into some mindless diatribe about their pet before I can even answer!!! WTF?!!

I don’t give a shit about your mangy little beast! ESPECIALLY if it’s a cat! I hate cats. By and large they are all assholes and are completely disassociative unless they need something from you. Then they are loud and obnoxious and won’t hesitate to slice your shit up if it so pleases them or they think it will further their quest to eat tuna.

Listen here underpaid overworked grocery line clerk. I understand that you are desperate for diversion after a 15 hour day dealing with human hogs giving you shit cause they didn’t know the 30 cent coupon for lean pockets expired yesterday. I can see how that might create an impulse to see my cat litter and think

” he has a cat…..i have a cat!!! maybe he’s normal like ME!?!”

Trust me I am not. And you might has well have a MUTE button on your chubby chin when you start telling me about Sir Pussmunch or whatever other ridiculous name your animal has. My brain immediately dials out the sound of your monologue about how your cat/dog loves this/that and blahhhhhblahhhhblahhhhhhhh.

It becomes white noise to thoughts of what the backlash would be if I randomly punched the old lady behind me in the throat as a karmic FUCKYOU for Grandma Liverspot giving me lip in the wendy’s lunch line the week before. I don’t dial back in until I hear the words

” your total is..”

I slide my card and leave resisting the urge to tell them what I really think of their cat. It could get lodged in the oven on thanksgiving day for all I care. So seriously lady….FUCK YOUR CAT.